


My Hands

by teacup-dragon (Lady_Anakin)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Anakin/pseuds/teacup-dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin muses on love as he makes a gift for Padme Amidala</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Hands

Anakin Skywalker didn't recognize his left hand as his. It was unmistakably his, he grew up with it, the bones, the flesh, and the few scars and callouses he had gained over the years, but his right hand, which he knew from every mechanism that made it work to the upgrades he gave it himself, it almost felt natural. A foolish mistake had made him stronger. He told friends that he didn't cover it in synth flesh because it was a reminder to that mistake he made on Geonosis. The truth was, he was starting to like how it looked, and most importantly, it never scared Padmé away. To him that was the most important thing.

He and Torrent Company along with Obi-Wan and his men were on their return trip back to Coruscant after a successful engagement, winning back the planet of Ryloth, Anakin was hoping the time home would not be too short and that his lovely wife would be free. It seemed too often lately that their paths did not cross. It was painful to be on the same planet as her but not able to see her. Possibly more painful than seeing her in holo when her friendship with Obi-Wan had to be more prominent to keep suspicion from their relationship. It had to stay professional.

Anakin was still in the hanger, after a few hours of work, he took a seat on one of the crates and flexed his hands. They ached from the work he was doing, repairing the star fighters, something to do to pass the time. Even the joints to his mechanical hand felt stiff. He flexed his fingers before him again, eyes lingering on his unfamiliar left hand again. While on Ryloth they ran into some humans who called the planet home as well. They were traders and fell in love with the rocky planet. Their 'leader' of sorts aided them in entering Separatist controlled buildings. Anakin noticed a ring on his left finger and felt misplaced jealousy. He wanted to still be fighting this war without hiding his marriage. This simple trader was making a difference and open about his relationship...but Anakin was a Jedi and it was all he wanted for so long. Love was starting to trump his dreams of the saving the Galaxy, but the thing is, it didn't have to.

That ring on that man's left hand...he couldn't get that out of his head. He and Padmé discussed wedding rings...after the act since the marriage was sprung on him, no complaints; it only made him love Padmé more. She was a strong woman, she made the decisions and he was happy to be her's, and her's only. They decided against the rings since their marriage had to stay a secret and a visible piece of jewelry would make keeping that secret so much harder. Padmé wore the japor snippet he gave her so long ago as a token of his love and Anakin named his first two star fighters after her. But he wanted more. It was always more with Anakin, and always with love. More power to protect the ones he loved. More time with the one he loved most. And now...a physical representation of their love.

As a Jedi, he did not have a disposable income, every credit accounted for, and so he could not buy his wife a ring as much as he would want to. But he was cleaver. More than cleaver, he was brilliant! He made her the pendant; why not just make her a ring? The hanger was still empty so he decided to get to work right in there. Popping open his tool box he found a small O-ring, he remembered the size of her fingers by closing his eyes and picturing that he was holding her hand. A tear trickled down his cheek, he missed her so much and the only thing to cure the ache was to hold her in his arms. He wiped his eyes and regained composure, the small part was the perfect size. He cleaned it off meticulously of all the residue oil before taking a small laser saw from his tool kit. Holding it in his non-gloved left hand, which he learned quickly, was a bad idea, burning his fingertips, he proceeded to puncture the durasteel with a deep dimple. He inspected his handy work and cleaned the ring again.

Anakin then sat on the hanger floor with his lightsaber before him, in a meditative state he disassemble his weapon, plucking the crystal that gave it its vibrant blue glow from the parts on the floor. With his laser saw he broke off a chunk and fashioned it to look like a gem, which he placed in the dimple of the ring. Simple. Beautiful. Meaningful. He grinned at himself. He was simply brilliant. Digging through his tool box once again he found another larger O-ring and slipped it onto his own ring finger. Even the simple act made him feel better. He held Padmé 's ring in the palm of his hand, still with a large grin on his face. This was perfect.

Cleaning up his work space he pocketed both rings with the note he had yet to take out of the hidden pocket of his robes. Before every mission he wrote a good bye to his wife, just in case he didn't make it. His personal belongings, that he always left with Yularen in case of the event of his death with a note to give to Senator Amidala, was a growing pile of letters of how much he loved and adored her. He had hopes the war would end and he could burn them all, but just in case he did happen to die...she would know that he was always thinking of her. He tossed the last note in with the others and cleaned up then headed to his bunk. Soon they would be home and he could see his love.

He was home. He found time away from the Jedi and hoped it was enough to see his wife, if only for a moment. A moment was enough to keep him breathing, but he ached for more times. After I have won this war... he thought to himself.

He had only an hour and then he was to be sent back out to fight the good fight. The apartment was empty and when he called her comm he was answered by one of her handmaidens. Senate was in session today, it was not expected to be out until later that night. His heart fell and it ached, tears threatening again. She was so close and yet untouchable. For most of that hour he had to himself he sat on their bed, twisting the ring in his fingertips. When he was supposed to be heading back to the temple he found a blank sheet of flimsy and a pen and wrote:

My one and my only,

You deserve a ring, and I know that you will not be able to wear it, but you having it, is enough. The crystal is from my lightsaber and the ring is made by my hands. My hands will protect you until your dying breath. I leave my own ring to reassure you that I will return and you can place my ring on my finger as I hope to do with yours.

Forever yours, Anakin

He left his true home, both rings and note on her bedside table, and returned to the fight.


End file.
